I love your ash
for the first time since you died from cancer
seventy two hours ago in MONIKI
I already love your ash.
I long for bring it homeward
and place under the pillow, under our blanket -
it doesn"t matter where, after all in the night or, sooner, in the morning,
when it"s a blizzard and the last street-lamps are being switched off,
I dream about you. At night in April
(we)"11 walk thru Moscow, calling at in cafes and bistros,
smoke at speed, dropping an ash on the cloths -
you"ll turn into this ash not every other eight years...
As soon as a telephone tolls
I take the pills to sleep.
The Time is of no power.
February 1999
Bycovo
Your ash
© Copyright: Martin75, 2001
Свидетельство о публикации №101101700131
Свидетельство о публикации №101101700131
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